


Don’t go to the Castle

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Discworld AU, Gen, pg rated horror with a side order of sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Don't go to the frightening castle on the top of the mountain. Don't befriend the host. Don't leave your room at night and try to learn his secrets.Or, the Discworld AU that no one asked for.





	Don’t go to the Castle

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my Halloween Vampire AU fic. This is actually a prologue to something I may or may not get to write in the future. I borrowed the Discworld universe for this one, so you get Igors who lisp and the vampires talk with an accent. But you don't need to have read the Discworld books to understand what's going on (at least, I think so). If you have questions about this universe: feel free to ask them.

“Don’t go to the castle,” they said.

But people went anyway.

“Don’t be lured in by the host’s friendliness,” they said.

But people were lured in anyway.

“Don’t stay overnight,” they said.

But people stayed overnight anyway.

“We told them,” the people would say afterwards, shaking their heads.

 

The village of Dontgotothecastle was the sort of village that only appeared on maps to save the mapmakers from the embarrassment of so much empty space.

Lost up in the mountains it wasn’t anywhere near the roads used by the postal coaches, or near any roads that led to a big city, for that matter. And yet, some kind of magic compelled people to show up at the village, looking lost and bewildered, and asking for directions to Bonk, or other cities the names of which sounded far-off and foreign. One kind villager had gone to great lengths to find out directions to that city and then put up signs for it, but still people asked for directions.

“Actually, it’s getting late,” the visitor would point out in a worried tone of voice. “Do you have an inn?”

“Ah, you see, Miss, we do and we have lots of comfortable rooms with good beds,” a villager would say helpfully.

But the visitor wouldn’t listen. “What’s that up there?”

Knowing exactly how this would go, the villager sighed. “That’s Dontgotothe Castle. Don’t go there.” A sudden idea came to him and he added, “It’s just interesting from this angle, Miss, but believe me when you get up close, it’s really not all that interesting. And it’s mostly empty too.”

“So no one lives there?” the young woman asked.

The villager sighed. This visitor was young and beautiful and he knew exactly what happened to young and beautiful women who went up to the castle. “Not really.” And that statement was _very_ true.

“I wanna go to the castle!” a voice exclaimed.

The young woman turned around as the villager’s eyes fell on the carriage.

A little boy was sticking his head out of the window. With an embarrassed yelp, he ducked back into the carriage.

 _Oh no, this one has a son too!_ the villager thought.

“The castle it is, then,” the young woman said brightly. She gave the villager a happy wink. “My son and I are really just out to see the countryside. This is the first time he was interested in anything.”

The villager threw a look around him to make sure no one could hear him. “Don’t go there,” he whispered. “Please, please don’t go.”

The young woman laughed. “Oh you don’t need to tell me that. I know who lives in ominous castles up in the mountains.” She turned to the carriage and hesitated. “You don’t sell any pictures of your village, do you?”

“Pictures?” the villager asked.

She nodded. “Yes. My husband couldn’t come with me, you see, so I thought I’d buy a picture for him. Do you have any?”

“Why would we sell pictures of our village?” the villager asked in some confusion. He felt very derailed by the conversation. He was just making ominous remarks about the castle and here she was asking for pictures!

The woman shrugged. “I don’t know, but the previous village we visited sold pictures like anything. I thought we could put them up on the walls. You know, give the visitors something to look at.”

The villager continued to stare at her blankly, which, for some reason, she took as an invitation to continue talking. “Oh yes, we get many visitors, you see. Feel free to visit us, when you come to Bonk!” she added. “Now, I need to go before it gets too dark. Have a good evening!”

“Y-yes… have a good evening,” the villager repeated before rushing away.

“How odd,” the woman said and climbed back into the carriage.

Her four-year-old son bounced happily on his seat. “Are we going to the castle, Mama?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “But it will be dangerous, so it’s a good thing I’m ready.”

The carriage continued its journey down a treacherous path that circled around the hill and went up into the mountains.

It was littered with big rocks all painted with the words “don’t go to the castle”. They didn’t go by unnoticed. “Well, it looks like we’re going in the right direction,” the woman said and reclined in her seat.

They came to the edge of a cliff where a rickety suspension bridge was the only thing between travellers and a long drop downwards. The carriage crossed it at the same steady pace it was going before. The woman and her son leaned out of the window to admire the water that rumbled below them.

“Is it cold, mama?” the boy asked.

“Mountain rivers are always cold,” she answered. “At least, that’s what I heard.”

The spires of the castle ahead gleamed in the moonlight. An impressive gate stretched over the road, overgrown with gnarly old vines. It creaked open on their own, as soon as they got near, letting the carriage pass. They could see Dontgotothe Castle better now. It looked exactly like an old castle should look, complete with tall windows and stone turrets. It also sloped sideways, as if it could slip off the sharp cliff it stood on any moment.

The woman nodded happpily. The castle had met with her approval. She watched her son stare at it with his mouth slightly open. He wasn’t scared in the slightest. She felt a pang of motherly pride, but didn’t say anything about it.

The carriage stopped and they climbed out and then went up the steep staircase.

She paused on the last step and looked down at her son. “Now, I want you to be on your best behaviour, alright?”

He nodded.

“Good.” She reached out for the door, but it creaked open before she even touched it.

“Good evening, mather and mithreth,” a voice called out.

Taking this as her invitation, the woman stepped inside, her son following closely behind her.

The door closed.

“May I take your coatth?” a voice asked right behind her, making her jump.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t notice you in the dark there, Igor,” she said, handing him her coat and helping her son out of his. “Is your master in?”

“Yeth. Mather is in the music room.”

As if to confirm this, the sound of an organ filled the hallway with suitably eerie and dramatic music.

“Thank you, Igor.” She held her hand out to her son and together they walked to the music room.

A man sat at the organ. He looked only a few years older than twenty, but, then again, twenty years ago he also looked a few years older than twenty, and even a hundred years ago he looked a few years older than twenty.

He pulled his hands away from the organ and turned in his chair. “Good evenink!” His voice carried well across the music room, just deep enough to touch that something in the listener’s chest and convince them that here was a man who could be trusted. Who _should_ be trusted.

“And who do I haff the pleasure of meetink tonight?” There was just the hint of an accent when he spoke.

The woman stepped forward with her son and made her introductions with a polite curtsy. The little boy bowed. The host returned the bow and then kissed the woman’s hand.

“Yes, of course. You vill need a bedroom for the night. Igor,” he called.

“Yeth, mather?” Igor called, appearing by the host’s elbow.

“Is a bedroom prepared for my guests?”

“Yeth, mather.”

“Good. Vill you dine vith me?” the host asked his guests.

“ _With_ you?” the young woman clarified. “Yes.”

The host turned away with a laugh. “Yes, of course. Igor, I hope a dinner is ready for my guests.”

“Dinner will be ready shortly, mathter,” Igor promised.

“In that case, if you would accompany me?” the host offered his arm to the woman and together they went into the dining room.

Dinner passed exactly how dinner in a big castle always does: everyone sat at one end of the really long table so as to be close enough to speak to each other without shouting and to pass the salt if it was needed.

Their host didn’t eat anything. He merely drank a dark red liquid from a wine glass Igor had brought out for him.

“Tell me, vere do you liff?” their host asked.

“In Bonk!” the little boy answered eagerly. “We have a big inn and everything!”

“Really?” the host asked, his chin on his hand. “And vat do _you_ do? Do you go to school?”

“I’m not old enough,” the little boy protested and blushed a little as he realized that his voice was a little too loud.

His mother smiled. “He helps around the inn a lot.”

“Of course he does.” Their host downed the remains of his glass. “But vere are my manners? You must be tired from the journey. Go rest now. I haff things to see to myself.”

He rose to his feet and excused himself before leaving the room.

The young woman and her son finished their meal and climbed up the tallest tower with Igor in tow.

“Mathter, Mithreth, ith there anything elthe you require?” Igor asked.

The young woman smiled. “No thank you, Igor.”

“The Mathter apogolitheth he can’t thee you off in the morning,” Igor added, “but I will be there to help make breakfatht.”

The boy beamed at Igor. “Good night, Igor!”

“Good night, Mathter, Mithreth.” He bowed. “Now with your permithion I will go prepare Mather’th coffin.” He shuffled out of the room and closed the door.

“Mama, why did he say coffin?” the boy asked.

“Because our host sleeps in one,” the woman explained.

“Can I sleep in a coffin?”

The woman laughed and shook her head. “No. You will sleep in a bed like you always do.”

“I always have to sleep in a bed,” the boy grumbled.

She locked the door and picked up her son. “Now off to bed! It’s already really late!”

“Aww! Do I have to sleep, mama? I’d much rather explore the castle!” His eyes gleamed in excitement and then he tried to pout at his mother.

“You know that won’t work on me, young man!”

But half an hour later the boy got his own way anyway. Exhausted by the journey, his mother fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. He, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep a wink. Like a good boy, he did his best, but something their host said at dinner kept bothering him.

Several times he alluded to his “little weakness” and the boy wondered what it was.

Their host was big and strong. What weakness could he possibly have?

Throwing a look at his mother to check that she was still sleeping, he slipped out of the bed, pulled his coat on over his nightshirt, unlocked the door and tiptoed out of the room.

The castle was big and dark. It was full of oddly-shaped furniture and metal men who stood very still and didn’t even answer the boy’s greetings.

The boy returned to the dining room, but it was still empty. He tried to remember which way the host had gone and when he couldn’t, he just picked a direction at random and went.

The castle was colder and darker here. The windows were all closed and he had to feel his way through the dark.

Just as he thought about going back it got lighter and he heard his host say: “Vell, you know how it is. I can’t help it.”

He tiptoed closer to get a better look.

It was very cold now.

As soon as he reached a corner, he stuck his head around it.

“You need to learn better self-control,” a man the boy had never seen before said.

“Yes, yes, better self-control,” his host muttered. “Do you think you haff better self-control than me?”

“Don’t giff me that,” the other man snapped back.

The host huffed and kept moving around the room.

He wasn’t walking. He wasn’t even flying like the boy heard vampires did. No, he was…

He was gliding.

The boy stepped forward for a better look and squinted. There were shoes with metal blades on his host’s feet. The ground was covered in ice. No wonder it was so cold! But he forgot about the cold as soon as he saw his host spin around and jump, landing back on the ice perfectly.

“Wow,” the boy whispered.

His host kept going, not noticing the boy who was watching him. He kept going like someone who would never stop, could never stop.

The boy felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped, but two hands picked him up and carried him away.

“What did I say about sleeping?” his mother asked as she walked further and further away from the big miracle out on the ice.

“B-but mother –!”

“Don’t argue, Yuuri, you know it’s well past your bedtime!”

Yuuri groaned and rolled his eyes. “Who cares about bedtime when…” He raised his eyes to look at his mother. “Did you see that, mother? Did you see what Count Victor did?”

“Yes, I did,” Hiroko said.

“Do you think I can learn how to do that too?” Yuuri asked.

Hiroko laughed. “Yuuri, if you put your mind to it, there’s nothing you can’t do.”


End file.
